The End of Strife
by Pale Meadow in the Moonlight
Summary: The world is at peace, but their hero shoulders the lingering burden. His mind has cracked and death is the only way out. Character death, Valenstrife reference if you read between the lines.


Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. Just the twisted plot idea.

Warning: Character death. Mild insanity. It made me sad to write it.

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The End of Strife

Cloud sat at the edge of the water, wondering briefly how long it would be before someone went looking for him. He came here every day at noon and left at sunset, like clockwork. He dipped his buster sword into the pond in Aerith's church, letting it fall to rest at the bottom. "What does it feel like to drown?" he whispered to no one, as he stood and stepped into the water. Without taking a breath, he forced his body to the bottom gently, trying not to make too much noise. He lay down on his back, staring up and clutching the sword to his chest as a child would a familiar toy in a new place. He closed his eyes.

Vincent entered the doors, expecting the blonde warrior to be in his usual spot near the edge of the pond. He was near shocked that the space was empty, and came closer curiously. Then he noticed a slight ripple to the usually flat as glass water, and leaned over to search for the cause. He saw Cloud there, motionless with a small smile on his face. He stood rock still for a moment, not sure if his mind was playing tricks on him again. Then Cloud's face slowly moved. He looked in pain. Then he smoothed his face and his lips parted.

Vincent reached in quickly, grabbing the swordsman by the shoulders and heaving him up. He forced the man up to the surface even as he struggled, and Vincent fell in. He wrestled the blonde out, shoving him onto the floor beside the pool of water.

He dragged himself out, dripping and angry. "What in the name of Shiva were you trying to accomplish with that?"

Cloud closed his eyes and stayed still, breathing heavily. Vincent tried to stand, but his legs gave out beneath him. He sank to the floor, hair falling to cover his face. The Chaos within him fought to come to the surface, angered and encouraged by the gunman's weakness. He pushed the monster in him aside, moving to sit beside Cloud. "Is he speaking to you?"

Cloud hesitated, and then nodded. "He won't leave me. He's getting louder by the hour." He started shaking. "Down there, I couldn't hear him. I wanted to stay there. Why did you bring me back?"

He sounded so torn inside that Vincent pulled him closer into his lap, resting his face in the spiky hair. Sephiroth had died again exactly a month before, but he hadn't left completely. Cloud still heard him in his mind, mocking him and trying to convince him to recreate his terrors. He had Jenova's cells infused in him, and that caused her chosen one's voice to have power over him. He used his entire conscious mind to resist the orders he was given.

Cloud shook harder, and wrenched himself away, holding his head. "No. I won't. I won't do it!" He stood and ran, falling to his knees before the altar. "I will never be like you. I'm stronger, I can resist!" The church echoed with his words, and Vincent heard a mocking tone in them. As if Sephiroth were there saying the words. He stood and removed his boots, walking silently up to Aerith's staff, sticking out from the ground surrounded by flowers. He removed his cloak and headband, then his shirt.

Cloud looked up to see Vincent kneeling bare-chested in front of Aerith's grave marker. He guessed that the gunman was paying his respects to their dead comrade. He stood and walked back to the pond, reaching in and pulling out his sword. Going over to the grave, he jammed the blade into the ground next to it. He walked away, out of the church and got on his bike. Vincent appeared at the doors, watching him go silently.

Uncovered, Cloud could easily read the story in the raven haired man's features. The scars told of a difficult past, full of pain and terror. The muscles told of working hard for his strength. The pale skin told of being closed off for a long time, insecurities keeping him from opening up. But his face told of his emotions, bitter sorrow at his past, burning hatred for those who destroyed him, self loathing for his sins, the pain of his inner monster, and most of all, the sadness of letting Cloud go; Vincent knew what the blond will do when no one is there to stop him. As Cloud hesitated, shocked at the depth of what the gunman felt, hidden from the world, he stepped forward, letting the sorrow show in his eyes as well.

His thin frame looked fragile in the light of the stars overhead. The sun had set on the world, and it was time for the inevitable goodbye. Their eyes locked and they knew that it would be the last time for them. Before the sun would rise, one life would end and one would crumble. Vincent sank to his knees, hair falling to cover his face. "Chaos will consume me, but do what you must. If you must join the Lifestream to escape your pain, then go." He stood slowly and walked back inside, and Cloud barely glimpsed him collapsing before the now two grave markers when the doors inched closed.

He drove away.

Vincent lay before the sword for a long while. Tifa, Denzel, and Marlene found him there just before the sun rose. They looked on at the weapons in the ground and the uncovered man in shock. Marlene wasn't sure the meaning of it all, but she knew that something terrible happened that night. Denzel went to the blade and knelt before it beside Vincent and began to cry. Tifa watched over the children as she grieved inside herself, keeping a strong face for them to see. She watched over him too, kept him safe.

When the sun was well and truly up, she took the kids home, leaving the man to himself. He still lay motionless, staring at the blade in front of him. Wishing to drown in his monster to escape.

As the sun set, the church doors opened and quiet feet approached, he saw Cloud walking closer in the reflection of the blade. He whispered to himself, "Mind tricks again?"

"This is no trick." The gunman sat up stiffly, turning to the voice. Cloud stood there, sorrow writ in his features. Blood soaked his arms, and was smeared across his face, soaked his blonde spikes, splattered his clothes. He collapsed to the ground, crying slightly. Vincent watched silently, knowing that even if it was real, there was nothing he could do.

"The Mako in your body won't let you end it."

Cloud went still, and stared at the sky. "Kill me."

Vincent did.


End file.
